


Still.

by Beckon



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
Genre: Blood, Disembowelment, F/M, Guts - Freeform, Kissing, Major Character Injury, Minor Angst, Recovery, Scars, Sharing a Bath, kissing scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7629973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckon/pseuds/Beckon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm fine," Kenshi repeated, as he dropped his hands back forward again. "I just..." he stopped in an attempt to put his thoughts into coherent phrases. He didn't end up with much else but a vague hand gesture, and a quiet laugh caught under his breath; exhausted and breathless. "... I'm in love with her, Jax."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a feeling he got in his chest.

Some would compare it to like having a sixth sense about things.

_(But in his case, the number was a little higher than just six)._

It stemmed from experience- years of collective mistakes, and scars; decades of learning and adapting. For Kenshi, it all came down to his senses- everything, and just about _everyone_ , depended on them when it was necessary. With the exception of him, in which it was mandatory.

Experience told him what to listen for.

But the information he sought wasn't found in the faint whistling of bombs being dropped all around him. It wasn't found in the aftermath of the ear-splitting explosions that vibrated in his bones and spine- making his head ache with every new rupture. It wasn't found in the constant gunfire that, thankfully, was off in the distance this time. Even now, after the years and decades he had put into the Special Forces, he was still unnerved by the sounds of guns, or any form of heavy weaponry. Not quite as badly as he had once been, but they were still enough to cause him to grimace.

The hollow throbbing in his chest, just underneath an age-torn breastplate, and battle-battered ribs, wasn't a reaction from him.

It wasn't a reaction to the piece of shrapnel, still hot from a recent explosion, that had embedded itself into his right cheek; it had cut down to teeth and gums- filling his mouth with blood every now and again. Bitter and metallic on the tongue and to his senses.

Decades of experience had honed his ability to cut out most of such distractions- allowing him to focus on what mattered more.

To focus simply on the weight of Sento in his hands, and the warm aura that passed through his fingertips.

To focus on the sounds of bones being crushed and flesh being split open with every careful, calculated swing.

To focus and listen to the slight whistle Sento made when it cut through the air- just before it impaled itself into his target's skull.

Experience told him what to listen for.

And Kenshi found the source of that knotted feeling in the sound of her boots briefly catching and scraping against the ground- causing the thick rubber soles to squeak with every other step. He heard it in the wheezing breaths that came out from between clenched teeth; in the hard contraction of her lungs, and the choking of her throat with every breathless heave.

He heard the source of it in the soft jangle of her dog tags as they clipped against one another. And he immediately got the image of her walking slightly hunched over; just enough to lift the identification tags from where they would normally rest silently against her chest.

And it was that deep-seated feeling, it was years of experience; it was a thousand ancestral voices shouting out at once that drove him to her.

That drove him to run hell across the formerly abandoned shipping facility, now reincarnated as a Black Dragon hideout- and soon to be buried once more under rubble and bombs. Feet stumbled slightly over broken up concrete and what might've been corpses- stumbling over things he didn't bother to avoid, or move out of his way.

It wasn't worth his time, his energy, to focus on what was underneath them.

Every second he wasn't next to her was a risk.

He heard the slight grunt that escaped her as she stumbled out into the war-torn back lot. Her business in the heart of the facility long finished and left behind her now- more than likely in a spattered mess.

...

He didn't even smell the blood through the smoke and gunpowder until he was next to her.

Until he felt her forearm brush against his chest, and felt the subtle push that came from it- warning him that he had gotten too close.

"I'm fine," Sonya spoke, bloodied words forced out between teeth and breathlessness.

He could hear the blood practically pouring out of her; thick, fat droplets splashing into the ground at her feet.

Sonya tried to make him keep his distance, but the plan faltered and failed when her braced forearm lost its traction, and her left shoulder slid into his chest instead. Kenshi felt the hint of her bodyweight hitting him, and quickly moved to brace one arm across her back to catch her; despite her earlier attempt, he wasn't willing to let her out of his grasp.

He brought his other arm around to her chest, but froze when his hand collided with the arm she had braced against her abdomen. A not so subtle flinch had him retracting the motion as he moved his hand to her shoulder instead- pulling her in and keeping her anchored to him.

Kenshi felt the slow way she shifted her weight off of her feet and onto him. He felt her non-braced arm loosely hook itself around his waist to help her keep balance- fingers curling tight against his back. He felt her head rest against his chest as her shoulders slumped forward, altering her usual stiff, upright position into a shaky, hunched over one. Uncharacteristic of her.

She never was one to admit to needing help, but at least with him, she never had to ask.

Heavy breaths clipped through her teeth now, and he could feel the way her entire body seemed to jerk with each one. He could hear her lungs struggling to keep up with every hard breath- causing them to choke in her throat from time to time.

"General-"

"We're through here," she interrupted- voice hoarse now from her struggled breathing. "I already called the boys off... Let's just get home."

He knew those words- knew the tone that they were spoken in.

Experience let him know where this situation was headed.

She barely got another step forward before he caught her once again, and carefully hoisted her up in his arms- taking note of the pained grunt that escaped her. He knew she hated it when he carried her, when anyone carried her really; she was vocal about it every time he did it. But he wasn't going to hear another squeak of her boots, or the catch of her dog tags against one another. He wasn't going to have her struggling to stand up straight- let alone walk.

She felt heavy in his arms- heavier than normal, heavier than she should've been.

For now, she was quiet; her head tucked against his shoulder as her breathing shifted into short, fast exchanges against his neck.

But even with her safely in his arms, with the chaos in the distance calming down, even with the irritatingly loud approach of helicopters in the skies above... That feeling in his chest remained and persisted- chewing its way through him.

...

It wasn't until he had her on the floorboard of one of the helicopters did he know why that feeling was stuck on him.

It wasn't until he had stripped off his gloves, using fingers and teeth to do so; until he brought his hands to her face and flinched at the heat and sweat of her skin against his own. Her jaw and cheeks fit perfectly against his palms, they always had, and it took every bit of self-control to not let his senses get out of hand. His gloves kept his sense of touch numb, kept it subdued to a degree- just enough for him to not overreact to everything his skin touched.

But he needed to be open, needed to focus everything on this- on her.

It wasn't until he felt warm, wet fingers lying over the open bed of her stomach- until he felt the warm, wet rush of her blood pumping through his own fingers. Senses and nerves tingled and burned at the feeling as he covered her hand with his own.

He knew what was wrong now.

He knew what had happened when he wasn't looking, when he wasn't with her.

... He didn't know the count; he didn't know how many stabs she took until she got away, or until she killed the hand that held the blade.

Didn't know how long it took before her stomach wall collapsed in on itself.

It couldn't have been too long though- the stabs couldn't have been too deep. Otherwise her entrails would've been dangling around her feet by the time he found her. It was a small comfort, a small thought of reassurance that there was still plenty of time between them.

He could feel the weight and pressure of her organs in his grasp though- felt the way they pushed against his palm in an attempt to spill out across the floorboards. Warm and slick to the touch, coating his fingers in blood and mucus.

He could hear the blood gurgling in her throat; he could hear the way each breath had to choke its way through in order to bring in air. The blood was warm as it spilled out from her lips and pooled underneath the palm he kept placed at her jaw.

At this point, he couldn't tell if the erratic pounding in the back of his head was her heartbeat, or his.

Every single one of his senses was on edge as he focused them all on her.

On the warmth of her blood on his hands.

On the nauseating way the helicopter was filled with the scent of fresh carnage and guts.

It was so overpowering, he was almost convinced that the taste of blood in his mouth was hers as well.

He could hear the pounding of her veins and arteries, tight and constricting where they could be inside of her; but spliced and ripped open where they were outside of her stomach.

"Stay with me," Kenshi whispered, urging the words at this point, as he let Sento's energy flood out through his hand- using it to counteract the pressure of her organs filling his palm. He tried not to think of the oddity of the situation; his telekinetic abilities were normally used to rip organs out, not push them back in. But it was precise, it was articulate; it was needed.

She would be going into shock soon- if she wasn't already there.

He had to keep her together- had to keep her with him, at least just long enough for them to reach the nearest Special Forces base.

If she lost consciousness now... she might not come back.

_"... Please."_

She could only respond with the heavy coughs that tore through her chest, desperate to expel the blood from her throat. Every harsh choke made it difficult for him to keep her organs in place, as shredded muscles still contracted and spasmed with each cough; it was almost as if her own body was trying to expel the organs themselves.

This was still in his control though.

He could do this. No need for panic.

His fingers lifted from her jaw and brushed across her brow- brushing aside the wet strands of hair that collected under his touch. The looseness of her strands indicated that either her braid might've been cut free, or cut loose in some way; a rare problem she came across every now and again, especially in combat. Always did complain about the length, and talked about cutting it, but never went much from there with it.

Her skin was still hot underneath his touch- making his fingers tremble as he gently curled them against her temple.

Kenshi forced his own breathing to slow down, carefully forcing himself into a concentrated sense of calm; he slowed his own heartbeat down, cooling his entire body before he eased himself into her head, into the depths of her mind.

It was chaotic; a mess of shock setting in, and agony that had her body struggling to control the pain, and blood loss. A mess of her body trying to repair spliced nerves and freed organs, which were far too sensitive for the stiff air in the helicopter.

Her energy was erratic.

One wrong move and- _no_ , he couldn't afford to think like that, not while he was inside of her like this.

Stopping his breath completely now, he was slow and careful to navigate and find the open receptors that recognized her pain; the ones that were putting her through this agony.

And when he found them, he cut them off.

It was dangerous, he knew that.

But it did little to stop him.

He knew what he was capable of- he knew what his limits were... and he knew what kinds of risks were worth taking.

There was a quiet, choked gasp that escaped her in response- no doubt she was suddenly aware of the loss of feeling. He gave it a few seconds for the pain to bleed out of her body, leaving behind heavy, exhausted breaths that still sparked blood on her lips.

He could hear her give a sputtered cough or two, before he felt her turn her head in his grasp and listened to the sound of blood being spat out from her mouth.

"You're alright," Kenshi whispered, breathing again- hard and slightly uncoordinated, almost matching her own rhythm. Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against her own, taking her in with every one of his senses. "You're going to pull through this; I know you will."

The words felt like they were more reassurance for him than for her, but it felt good to hear them spoken out loud regardless.

The lack of obvious pain wouldn't change the situation though; she was still in the running to bleed to death.

But at the very least, she wouldn't die from the agony.

Kenshi felt the weak hit of her forearm against his chest, and pulled away- only to stop when he felt her fingers curl against the leather strap of Sento's sheath. The grip wasn't strong by any means, but it was firm; it was enough to catch his attention, which was all she wanted.

"What did I say... about carrying me?" Sonya pressed; voice barely above a whisper, but still underlined with a tone of authority.

He wasn't surprised by her tenacity; they had worked for far too long together for it to be anything new to him. And he also wasn't surprised that she would hold such a simple thing against him still- no matter the situation. "You know me, General- I don't usually take commands all that well."

The sly remark was enough to trigger a quiet, partly forced chuckle from her throat.

His senses went crazy as he felt her brush her hand against his own- feeling the heat of her palm, but the startling chill of her fingertips against his skin.

"I got two slugs in him," she whispered- answering a question he had long since thrown out by now. "Took three hits to the stomach... but still tagged the bastard. And that's all... that's all that matters."

Perhaps so.

At the very least, she got what she wanted.

And as long as she would pull through this, that was all that mattered to him.

* * *

 

Kenshi didn't know how long he spent holding his hands under the rushing cold water- still trying to scrub the warmth of her blood off of them.

His fingertips felt stiff and frozen; most of his body heat having been lost under the chilling bath, and yet... he could still feel it. He could still feel the shakiness of her body, the false heat of her skin- the pressured weight of her organs in his hands.

Every single one of his senses was still going crazy- still hounded by memories and nightmares.

He eventually forced himself to shut the water off, but not because the feeling was gone- only because the sound of rushing water was making his head throb. The chill of his fingertips had numbed his sense of touch to a small degree, but not enough to spare him. Not enough to do anything against the bloodied ghosts lingering on his palms.

Drying off his hands, he pulled his gloves back on- glad to have the subdued feeling once more; at this point, it felt more like a security than anything else. Something to keep his skin from crawling for the time being.

Stepping back out into the hallway, he was quick to cut out as much background noise as he could- ignoring the squeaking wheels of gurneys, or the stumbling footsteps of the nurses on staff. He tried to ignore the burning smell of medicines and chemicals in the air, but that one was a little harder to manage.

Tried to ignore the fact that he was in a hospital to begin with.

Never was a fan- whether he was a patient, or just a visitor.

He counted steps and made his way back to the chair he had been seated at before- in the small, quiet waiting room just off of the busy hallway. Wasn't a fan of this place either, but it was better than being in one of the hospital rooms. He was lucky he only came out of that battle with the shrapnel wound on his cheek; it needed a dozen or so stitches, but that was it.

Barely needed to be admitted in the first place.

He couldn't have been here for more than a few hours though- he had a bad habit of not keeping track of time.

Updates were slow to come by though.

Still... shouldn't be too long now.

He tried not to get caught up in waiting, in counting every faint tick that came from the clock nearby.

The sound of familiar footsteps coming down the hallway was enough to distract him from it though; and he had no doubts that the footsteps were aimed at him.

Heavy on the heels; wide, broad gait- very little shift in speed, always consistent with each step.

Calculated and braced- always ready to stand ground when needed.

A unique footprint; unique energy signature- one he didn't have to fully sense to know who it was.

His profile was tall, broad- taller than him by a good foot at least, wider than him by two.

Energy was heavy on the shoulders, heavy in his footsteps, but light across the board; it was unsettled- _concerned_.

The footsteps didn't take long to find him, then again he wasn't all that difficult to miss most of the time. Easy to spot in a crowd.

"I just got done speaking with the doctor," Jax spoke, as he walked into the room, and took the chair next to him; a metallic arm bumped against his own as the man's much larger stature barely seemed to fit in the small chair. "Surgery went just fine apparently; she'll pull through with no complications." A tone spoken in genuine relief. "Like she normally does." Followed by a sense of mild exasperation- a hint that this had happened one too many times to be comfortable with anymore.

Stomach split open with organs poured out, but... she would live.

Just another scar to grow over her skin.

That was what was important here.

Kenshi gave a quiet sigh of relief and leaned back against the wall behind him. It wasn't that he had any doubts about Sonya pulling through this with ease- this wasn't the first time, or her first scar. But years played a dangerous toll on the body. It wouldn't be long before the next knife went in too deep. "That's good to hear," he replied.

"Not exactly the phone call I wanted to wake up to at two in the morning."

He chuckled lightly at Jax's answer.

Jax had been Sonya's emergency contact for years now. So whenever something like this happened, something this drastic, he got a phone call to inform him of it. The man wouldn't easily admit that he hated the sound of a ringing phone most days- afraid of what message might play for him on the other side. It made him a little paranoid, especially since Sonya very rarely told him what she was up to.

Like the excursion they had just finished, for instance.

Definitely not something Jax wanted to _just_ find out about.

Still, he was quick to arrive- quick to get information regarding the whole thing.

It was good to have him around.

... Although Kenshi couldn't help but to remember a long-past time where he would flinch every time he heard those heavy footsteps getting closer- even if they weren't directed at him necessarily.

Jax was Sonya's first partner.

He was someone who could never be replaced, someone she wouldn't replace- even after he had dropped from the Special Forces.

When Kenshi joined two years after the Tournament, Sonya took him on under her own wing; and it didn't take long before their partnership grew, and they were running every OP together. Something about them just clicked when they were together. But even back then, she only mentioned Jax a few times by name, but never said much else about him; he got the jest of it though, and knew it wasn't something she wanted to talk about.

Over time, she gradually told him about the Tournament, told him the horrors she barely escaped from, and admitted she brought him on because they were desperate for allies. Even if his telekinesis abilities had been an issue for her at first- which was a story for another time.

And while he had been at the Tournament himself, he had managed to avoid the chaos that had ultimately gone down.

...

Then there was the ordeal with Shinnok, and then Quan Chi- and Sonya was able to bring Jax back from Revenant form.

Not the same, but... he was alive again.

Right off the bat, Kenshi got the impression that Jax didn't like him- well, not so much of an impression, but a confirmed theory. Jax was Sonya's first partner; her Commander, and he didn't like the idea of her being in some stranger's hands- especially not a blind one.

(Not that Jax would ever admit to that one either, but Kenshi knew).

Eventually, he and Sonya ran an OP, went head-to-head with some Black Dragons, and she got injured. Bullet to the leg, clipped the artery- although nothing too terribly serious; he kept pressure on her wound the entire ride home, ensuring she didn't bleed to death in the back of an armored truck. The situation had been out of his hands on that one, like most of them were, but he did what he could in the aftermath.

And just like now, Jax came to the hospital to visit her; the need to know about her health and safety was enough to bribe him onto SF property.

Only, back then, that incident seemed to prove his inability to protect Sonya.

It proved his naive recklessness.

Their first direct encounter with one another, and he ended up getting hard-clocked in the jaw and knocked to the floor. Barely maintaining consciousness, and possibly swallowing a tooth or two, he couldn't really recall the details now. And Kenshi would admit that he probably deserved it back then- maybe he had gotten too reckless in battle, maybe he shouldn't have let her out of his sight. But Sonya was far better adapted in those situations than he had been; she didn't need him breathing down her neck every time she took two steps.

Still... it took Jax three years to apologize for it, and even then, Kenshi didn't accept it; he insisted that it wasn't necessary. He needed to do better- needed to be a better partner for whoever he might get stuck with down the road. He wasn't accustomed to running in pairs, and was used to only looking after himself. He needed to change that if he intended to join the Special Forces.

And he did.

And here he was, decades later, still stuck in the same situation.

"You alright?" Words strung together with a hint of concern. "Something happen to your face?"

Kenshi chuckled and touched briefly at the thin padding on his cheek. "Yeah, piece of shrapnel got me- got a couple of new stitches out of it, but I'll be fine," he assured. He moved his hands back to knit together in front of him, keeping his fingers tightly compressed to one another. He was still trying to ignore the warmth of her blood filling the spaces between his fingers and gloves- a sensation that had yet to leave him be. "... I should've been able to do more- I shouldn't have let her out of my sight." A brief pause. "You know what I mean."

"The only reason she survived for so long, and was in such a recoverable condition, was because of you," Jax reminded- no doubt getting the information from the doctor, or someone on the wait staff. "You helped keep her alive, that's all that matters."

He wasn't so sure about that though.

This wasn't the first time Kano's blade had cut into her, had spilled her open.

It had happened before in his absence, when Sonya only had herself to defend and protect. And she had made it back to HQ before, her stomach in her own hands, and had pulled through the surgeries and recovery on her own.

In the back of that helicopter, he did what he could to save her; but in the end, he didn't get the feeling that he was really needed there. On one hand, she would've been just fine on her own.

"Maybe," Kenshi replied. "I just... I should've been there for her- before it happened. It never should've happened in the first place."

"Look, you know Sonya- you've been running with her for years now. And you know the beef she's got with Kano; those two have a death sentence on one another," Jax spoke. "They've been trying to kill each other for decades now- always breathing down each other's neck. This is just another one of their conflicts. Believe me, I don't like it either; I don't like seeing her getting carved up by his knife. But this is not a conflict either of us can get in-between. This for them, and them alone- as painful as it is to see the aftermath like this."

Kenshi knew Jax was speaking the truth in that regard- there was no arguing with that.

There was no getting in-between, or even so much as stopping Sonya and Kano when they crossed paths.

They had each other's names carved into bullets and blades.

"She'll be fine."

She would be.

She had to be.

He moved his hands to his neck and leaned back into the wall behind him- shifting his weight and pressing his fingers against the base of his skull. He could feel that headache from before slowly creeping its way in; no doubt it was being partly fueled by the uncomfortable atmosphere of the hospital.

"You sure you're okay?"

Concerned once more.

"I'm fine," Kenshi repeated, as he dropped his hands back forward again. "I just..." he stopped in an attempt to put his thoughts into coherent phrases. He didn't end up with much else but a vague hand gesture, and quiet laugh caught under his breath; exhausted and breathless. "... I'm in love with her, Jax."

There was an understandable pause.

Understandable silence.

And as hard as he tried to block it all out, he could feel the surge of thoughts running through the man's head- although not necessarily reading them; they were a complicated whirlwind playing against the backdrop of silence though.

His admittance... it couldn't have been all that surprising though.

Jax had to have known- or at least gotten a hint, or an idea of it all.

Maybe it was just the direct approach, maybe it was the hearing of such a confirmation out loud that made him go quiet.

"Does she..." Jax didn't finish his sentence, but he knew where it was going regardless.

"Yeah," Kenshi nodded, simply enough. "We've been..." and then words decided to fail him next- deciding not to finish his train of thought. The openness left him contemplating whether or not he wanted to finish them to begin with.

"Since when?"

He rubbed at his jaw slightly, almost wanting to laugh at their shared nerves. "Port Said."

"Port Said- that was three years ago," Jax reminded him- a slight hint of disbelief in his voice.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't so noticeable after all, which was actually a good thing.

"Yeah, it was."

He heard Jax give out a sigh, and heard him rub at the back of his neck- listening to the sound of metal against skin. "Something tells me that I shouldn't be surprised- and yet, I am. And considering that this is the first time I'm hearing about this, from you of all people... I'm assuming that no one else knows."

That much was complicated.

With their overall work schedules, it was easy to hide a relationship like theirs- after all, no one so much as batted an eye when they were together. They had been together for over two decades with nothing short, or more, of a professional standing with one another. And with family issues on both sides... that kind of illusion worked well for them. It wasn't that they intended to keep things hidden, it was just... easier for them to do it until the time was right.

Which, one would think, after three years, it would've come along by now.

"No, we uh... we didn't exactly want to create a scandal," Kenshi answered- her position as General of the Special Forces, as well over all of Earthrealm, made it a touchy subject as well. "Hell, I probably shouldn't even be telling you about it."

"So why are you?"

Good question.

"Scared, I guess," he replied. "Been through these kinds of situations with her before, sure, just... not like this." In the three years, they had gone on plenty of OPs together, plenty of death runs it would seem- but they always came out fairly unscathed. Nothing serious anyways. Nothing like this.

He had always worried for her when she got injured, but this time it felt different. This time she wasn't just his partner, or just the General of the Special Forces. This time she was someone he had confessed to, that he had exposed a damning weakness to. They had both screwed up with other people in the past, and this... this was the first time that either of them were comfortable with forgiving themselves for it.

It had been a long journey to get to that point of self-forgiveness.

He didn't want to see it end so soon.

"I know you love her too though," Kenshi continued. "So knowing that you can get through this makes it a little easier on the nerves."

Jax gave a quiet laugh and moved one heavy hand to his shoulder, tightly gripping it with metallic fingers. "Sonya's one of the greatest people to have ever walked into my life- I wouldn't be here without her," he spoke. "And yeah, I love her- I can't deny that. But I'm not _in_ love with her. That's you, that is all on you."


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes he was convinced that she had been blessed by the Elder Gods in some way, or form.

Maybe with or without her knowledge, but there almost seemed to be no other explanation for it.

Sonya was the Special Forces General of Earthrealm, and because of such, she rarely ever had time to leave her office, let alone assist on one of the many operations she had running around the clock. But if the Black Dragon clan was involved, or rumored to be involved, she was there on-site. And no amount of arguing, usually from the other Generals, or Operatives, could talk her into not being there. She always claimed if that anyone was going to bring the Black Dragons down, it was going to be her, and she was going to be on scene when it happened- not stuck behind a door, watching it all unfold on a television screen.

So it wasn't very often that Sonya suffered from injuries while on the job, let alone grievous ones.

But if, or sometimes _when_ , she did, she was always quick to recover from them.

She wasn't always quick to bounce back, but healing was the first step.

And the more important one in most cases.

Four days ago, she was admitted with what had felt like, what might've been half of her stomach hanging out. Her skin had been flushed with heat; a rampaging fever burning her from the inside. Rapid, sudden blood loss had dropped her blood pressure, had her passing in and out of consciousness, and had her body fighting to stay alive. Exhaustion had her struggling to keep her head above the water just as much.

But four days now, fresh out of the ICU, and she was already well enough to have visitors outside of family.

Her vitals were strong, and every report apparently came back with the right numbers attached to them.

A nurse showed him to her room, taking him through the winding hallways, and guiding him through the maze of left behind gurneys and cleaning carts. Kenshi didn't like to admit that, as often as he was here, he still found the place difficult to navigate. When it was late, and visiting hour was technically over, it was a little easier to walk without interruption. But during midday like this, there were a few too many people to deal with.

And even with his blindfold on, some people still didn't seem to get why he didn't see them in the way- even if they had been the ones to run into him first. He might've been blind, but he knew he wasn't exactly someone who could be easily overlooked; if there was one Sonya always harped on him for, it was his inability to blend into a crowd.

Still, it didn't take much to entice a stumbled apology and a quickly-footed getaway though, so at least there was that.

He ran his fingers over the numbers to the room the nurse had left him at, reading them out loud in his head, and ensuring that this was the correct room to be.

Carefully pushing the door open, Kenshi stepped inside and tried not to get immediately overwhelmed by the mechanical beeping of the machines inside. Or by the faint hint of blood that still lingered in the air- or even the quiet splash of an IV drip somewhere. Instead, he let his attention settle on her, picking up on the low vibrations of her energy that came out in faint pulses.

Picking up on the sudden wash of calm that rushed over her, and feeling the way her eyes settled on him.

And he couldn't deny the heavy sense of relief that flooded him just the same.

"It's a good thing you're blind," Sonya started; her voice was low, but that stern tone of hers was still holding strong. It was easy to tell how exhausted she was still- a hard lingering result from heavy blood loss and stress. She was exhausted by the stitches and staples that were currently holding her stomach together as well, tugging stubborn skin back into one piece. "One less person to tell me how I look like shit."

Cassie, Jacqui, and Johnny had been staying with her ever since family was allowed in, but other commitments had them missing for the time being. Sonya was the definition of a workaholic, so the thought of someone missing work because of her was no doubt grinding; she probably made them leave so things didn't fall apart on the SF base. Just as well, considering how the three of them could be when they were in a group, she was probably more relieved to have them finally leave regardless.

They were a high-energy group, and considering that she had only been conscious again for a few days now... She could only deal with them in small dosages.

She loved them, that much was obvious, but she really needed to focus on herself right now.

Jax and Vera had been by earlier as well- in fact, Kenshi had run into them just as they were leaving the hospital. It was easy to read the relief Jax had over the situation; relieved by the outcome, although he swore that he had no doubts that Sonya would pull through. Vera was easily relived as well, but once more remarked that she didn't understand why Sonya had to be out there in the first place.

Losing the Special Forces General of Earthrealm would've been a huge blow to the organization.

And there was truth in that concern, and Vera had every right to be upset about it, but it still all came down to the fact that there was no physical way of stopping Sonya when she had her eyes on the target.

(Namely Kano).

Kenshi chuckled quietly at her remark as he pushed the door closed behind him, listening to how it locked in place, before he made his way over to her. He counted footsteps and the hollow beating of her heart- listening to the quiet echoes behind ribs, reinforced by pins and metal.

If there was one good thing to come from hospital rooms, it was the near absence of furniture scattered around. He didn't have to worry much about running into a chair, or a table- although he kept his senses open to them regardless. He wouldn't doubt it if Cassie, or Johnny had left a chair or two out in the open that he would no doubt run into if he let his guard down.

"You could never look that way to me, General," he assured, keeping her rank, as one hand reached out to touch the railing of her hospital bed; a motion he had gotten too used to doing. He used the railing to judge his distance, to stop short of running into the frame itself, but still be as close to her as he could. Fingers reached down to find her own waiting for him, and gently took them into his hold. "Quite _literally_ , in fact."

It was quiet, but he could still hear the partial groan under her breath.

"Be glad I'm on so many painkillers right now- otherwise, you would be dead for that one," she replied, as her fingers worked their way between his.

There was some lingering regret in that he had decided to keep his gloves on, but he knew it was for the best. He didn't want to pick up too much from cold fingertips and stiff skin- not when his hands still had nightmares of warm blood and false heat.

Still, the subtle squeeze of her fingers around his own gave him the reassurance he had needed three days before.

"I owe you one."

"Hardly."

Sonya clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth, which was a habit she never seemed to be too exhausted to do. "Oh come on, I dragged you out into the ass back of South America, and then made you hold my organs on the way home," she insisted, squeezing his hand once more- as if to drive her point. "Believe me, not a lot of people would be willing to do that."

Kenshi offered another quiet laugh before he moved his free hand to brush lightly against her cheek- slowly dragging his thumb along the curve of her cheekbone. She always had very defined cheekbones; ones that were easy to follow with touch, which greatly suited him. Leaning down, he used his hand as a reference point and brushed his lips against her forehead- hearing the quiet breath that escaped her in response. There was still a hint of heat to her skin, a mild fever, but it wasn't nearly a fraction of the heat that had been coming off of her before. "I figured I was still working off my debts."

"Which one?" she pressed, as she leaned her head into his palm, still tucked against her cheek. "The one about covering your past, or the one covering all of the blind jokes you subject me to every chance you get?"

"No, those uh... those would be the ones."

A slight chuckle escaped her at his response.

"Good fucking luck then."

* * *

 

Sonya spent another week in the hospital to fight off a persistent fever, and equally persistent infection- abet, a minor one at that.

After that, she stayed half a week at home to recover, which made for the longest amount of time she had ever been away from the SF base. Luckily with two other Generals on base, operations continued on as normal, and never once showed even a hiccup in execution. Things kept moving, and the base stayed in full motion the entire time.

It was near impossible to tell that she wasn't even present during any of it.

Cassie stayed the few days at Sonya's place to keep an eye on her, but reported that the General spent most of her time either sleeping, or working from her laptop in bed. And despite the situation, and her still recovering health, apparently Sonya still had the energy to curse at her ever-growing collection of emails and reports. The incident had been kept under the bridge for the time being, so only a handful of people were aware of her absence; and even fewer people knew of the reason for it.

So as the Special Forces work continued on around the clock, different Generals and SF stations still continued to try and get in contact with her for approval, or for information on certain operations. All of which she still had to answer to.

Kenshi stayed on base to keep things going, and to make sure that things were being handled as best they could. There wasn't much specifically that he did on base, but he helped to finish up the work on the Black Dragon's base that they had raided- including a full lockdown, clean, and sweep of the place. Any information that might've been left behind had probably been destroyed during the raid, but any little piece of it was worth looking for.

And from the debriefing that followed the clean-up crews, there had been a piece or two that had survived- and that had been well worth the hours it took to uncover them.

There was no doubt that there would be more Black Dragon raids in the future, but for now, it was simple planning.

... As worried as he still was about her, he kept his distance and kept himself busy with other matters.

Sonya was incredibly private when it came to being in pain, or being partly bed-ridden. And even though he had been with her through the worst of the worst cases, he knew where she drew the line; it was in the same place every time. Hospital visits were one thing. Those were for reassurance, but the recovery time afterwards were for her, and no one else.

And he knew better than to let worry, or anxiety break that line.

She would be fine.

* * *

 

Slow to bounce back, but it was hardly enough to slow her down.

Sonya spent most days locked away in her office anyways, so there was hardly any concern as to why she would rarely leave it now. And since the last of their known Black Dragon hideouts had been forced closed, there were no current reasons for her to be out in the field. She had an arsenal of dependable people to get her work done, and downtimes like these were a good time to put everyone to use for once.

Even if she was confined to her office, too sore to move around all too much, she could still get done what needed to be done.

She switched all of her physical meetings over to video conferences, which was normal considering that most SF bases operated at different times. And if any of the other Generals were even a fraction like her, they had very little time to spare for a face-to-face conversation- especially if several hours worth of traveling were involved. If anything, they all preferred ten minutes on a screen to get details and approval. Less time talking, more time working.

Any and all visitors were personally directed to her office, where any and all business was quickly settled, and then someone else would guide them off base. It allowed her to do face to face business without risking movement.

It was hardly even noticeable that she had been in the hospital at one point.

Let alone that she had had her stomach split open.

She knew how to play the General- knew how to put on the act that people needed to see from her.

Even if she spent most of her nights in pain, and irritated; the still tender stitches in her stomach preventing her from sleeping comfortably.

(And she hated sleeping on her back).

"I hope that asshole is in this much pain."

Kenshi chuckled lightly at her remark as he listened to her ease herself onto her bed, causing it to creak slightly with her jagged movements. Sonya had had a bed installed in her office a few years back so she could better perform around the clock. She rarely left her office, let alone the SF base in general, so it wasn't... an uncommon request. If anything, it at least ensured that she was getting some sleep here or there- no matter how little it might've been.

He had stopped by to ask her something about the latest report she had sent out that morning; the audio file sounded like it had either gotten corrupted, or there was just something missing from it. Unfortunately, he had apparently managed to catch her just as she was turning in for the night. Then again, it was already pretty late, almost a quarter past one in the morning- but he knew she would still be awake.

He had already removed his heavy armor for the night; shedding layers upon layers of protective clothing until he was just in jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. It left him feeling a little more than exposed, but it was late, and he didn't have anything scheduled for early tomorrow; it was worth letting his guard down for the night- at least for just a few hours.

"Depends on where you put those two slugs," he replied; noticing now that she hadn't locked her office when he walked in, which was normally what she did when she turned in for the night. Or early morning rather. She either got distracted, or didn't want to take the extra steps to do so. He would just have to remember to lock it on his way out when he was through here.

"In his gut," Sonya answered, grunting slightly as she roughly shifted herself around to find that desired comfortable position- to no avail it would seem. "I hope the payback was a bitch. I hope he enjoyed getting carved up by a back alley surgeon all over again."

The hostility was all too easy to read- always was.

Just another quiet example of why it was safer not to get between her and Kano.

"If you're going to stay, you could at least sit down," she offered. "You're freaking me out just standing there."

Right.

He hadn't exactly planned on staying long, wanted to keep giving her space, but the least he could do was make sure that she was comfortable for the night. "At least it's better than the last time he stabbed you," Kenshi reminded, waiting for her to get semi-settled in before he slowly made his way over to her. Her energy was a little erratic, but nothing to be worried about. Nothing more than frustration it would seem.

Sonya gave a quiet chuckle at the remark. "Don't remind me. The last time I had to have stitches there was when Cassie was born," she replied. "- And don't make me laugh, it just makes the pain worse."

He probably should've thought about that ahead of time.

Shouldn't have been surprised to find a chair already placed somewhat close to her bed, but Kenshi would admit that he was. It was probably just Jax though, or Cassie maybe, staying up throughout the night to keep her company. Or maybe to make sure that she was still alive. He pushed it closer, and was barely seated before he felt her hand brush against his own; before he felt rough fingers run against the bare skin of his hand, before they curled against him.

It was a calm, subtle touch that felt the right kind of warm against him as he moved to take in the gesture.

Kenshi felt the brush of her thumb as Sonya ran it over his knuckles, perhaps using him as a mild distraction from her stomach. It was a smooth, flawless stroke over battered and scarred tissue- nothing short of her own injured and healed again hands. But he felt the way she seemed partial to some of his scars as she brushed circles over his middle knuckle again and again.

The gesture alone seemed to be enough to lull her into nodding off.

Enough to convince her to just settle with whatever comfortable enough position she had found to sleep in- hopefully one that wouldn't irritate her stitches, or formerly misplaced organs. Unless she was outright exhausted, it would take her some time to fall asleep, which meant he was stuck here until then. But he would give her a few more minutes to make sure such was the case before he returned to his own bunk.

Sonya didn't like waking up to someone sitting next to her like this- something about it just creeped her out apparently, which was reasonable.

She operated on high-alert at all times, so waking up to a potential stranger while still fighting sleep was not a good combination for her. And with her being in a vulnerable enough state as it was, she wasn't going to be sleeping any better.

It was worth mentioning that a decade or so back, she had actually woken up to a would-be assassin in her office. He had only heard about the aftermath, and heard that it took nearly two full days to clean her office completely of blood. Apparently there had been quite a mess.

And she had walked away nearly injury-free from it.

Kenshi gently pulled her hand to his lips, brushing them against her knuckles, and feeling the subtle squeeze of her fingers against his own. He lingered against her skin, taking in the soft heat of her touch.

"You were really worried back there, weren't you, old man?"

He chuckled quietly at her equally quiet question, feeling the way her hand unfolded from his own, just enough to brush fingers against his cheek. And it didn't take long before fingertips found and traced the healing scar on his cheek. A former bloodied, but harmless wound from shrapnel- although half an inch lower and he would've gotten lockjaw from it.

Shallow and barely recognizable now, but still fresh and pink against his skin. He didn't foresee the scar staying around for long though- no doubt it would fade away in given time and eventually disappear. It hadn't cut down deep enough to leave a permanent lasting mark.

"Yeah," Kenshi whispered at first, turning his head into her hand now, and feeling the way her palm pressed against his jaw. "You had me really worried."

"Afraid I was too old to pull through?"

In any other situation, any given answer would've been the wrong one.

And even now, treading carefully would be the smart thing to do.

"We're not exactly young anymore," he reminded. "It wouldn't take much from here on to knock us down- and keep us down."

Fingers curled against his cheek in response, in thought maybe, before he felt her hand move to the back of his neck; before he felt her pull him down to her. And he moved all too easily with the motion, as his hands moved to catch himself against the soft bedding. He felt her other hand catch against his jaw, before fingers moved to slide through his hair- tangling lightly in it. He tucked his head against her shoulder, feeling one hand curl against the base of his neck as she anchored him to her- allowing him to settle and breathe her in.

"You worry too much."

* * *

 

Two weeks moved by quick, and her stitches had finally been long since removed.

Either cut off from the outside, or dissolved from the inside.

She was slowly working her way back to her former physical state with relative ease- although her reach of flexibility was still limited for the time being. For now, she seemed more focused on upper body strength rather than lower. Either way, she was going to put stress on her still sensitive stomach, but upper body reduced the amount of stress to a greater degree.

As long as she didn't overexert herself.

He worked with her every chance he got, and every chance she was available. He made sure to keep his senses focused on her though- making sure that he didn't push her too hard. Normally when they went head-to-head, even with training, it could get a little intense, and they very rarely held back on each other. But obviously some cases here were allowed special treatment.

Kenshi heard the hard panting that escaped her as their recent round of training came to a slow end. Almost two hours this time with only a few scattered breaks to catch breath and momentarily rest; he kept asking her if she wanted to stop, but she seemed dead-set on continuing no matter what. He could almost hear the rapid sound of her heart pounding away in her chest from the adrenaline.

It was still strong, beating away like a lion's heart inside of her.

Although it wasn't enough to block out the long groan that came from her as she moved to retrieve her duffel bag from nearby- having to partly lean down in order to do so.

"I'm leaving the base for the night," Sonya spoke, the sound of exhaustion easy to hear in her voice; easy to sense in her body as she struggled slightly to stand up straight again. A little too hard on the training this time, but she had held up well under it. It was all just coming back to her now that she had stopped moving, but hopefully it was that good, satisfied sort of ache.

"Finally going home for once?" Kenshi replied- garnering a brief chuckle from her, although it sounded slightly more like a warning.

"I get enough of that shit from everyone else, I don't want to add you to the ignore list," she remarked. "You coming with me?"

"Is that a question, or a request?"

"Neither. Just take me home."

* * *

 

Her house was quiet when they finally arrived- then again, it always was, and always had been.

Sonya shouldered the front door aside and stepped in, leaving it open for him as he followed after her. He caught the door on his fingertips and let it slowly slide out of his hold before he pushed it closed, and locked it behind him. It was a little difficult to not focus on how the slightest of noises, like the door lock sliding into place, seemed to echo throughout the house

It was too big for just one person, but she had bought it a long time before and had it completely paid off. She saw no sense in getting rid of it, not yet at least- even if she was rarely home enough to make any use of it; and even if half of the room sat empty and unused. Her half-week long stay might've been the longest time she had spent here in a long, long time.

Kenshi knew the feeling though.

He never had stuck around in one place long enough to settle into a house, and even now the thought of owning one felt like a ball and chain. The Special Forces provided him with one regardless though, but he couldn't remember the last time he had been in it; he usually just stayed on base to catch some sleep whenever he needed it.

For now though, Takeda made more use of the house than he ever did; his son normally stayed there whenever his team was needed, so he didn't have to travel back and forth between the Shirai Ryu temple and the Special Forces base.

A heavy sigh moving from her lips, followed by the sound of her jacket hitting the nearby couch, shifted his attention back to her.

"Draw me a bath, would you?"

A simple request- one that probably killed her to ask.

But one he wouldn't turn down.

Kenshi listened to her start up the nearby staircase, before he moved to follow her once more- counting the steps underneath him with caution. Never was a fan of staircases, especially the long ones, and hers of course had to curve to the right as they ascended. He followed her footsteps as she headed down the short corridor to his right at the top of the stairs, and eventually stepped into her bedroom.

He caught the sound of her partly collapsing against her bed- caught the slight squeak of her mattress, and heard the brief groan that followed her in response. And he almost desperately had to bite back the urge to laugh at the gesture as he bypassed her and headed into the master bathroom instead. He didn't really want to risk her hearing him though- especially knowing that she'd probably find the strength to drag herself back to her feet, and corner him in here.

Removing his gloves, he set them aside on the nearby countertop, before he walked over to the tub and started the water- letting it run loose between his fingers.

Her preferences usually depended on what was going on at the time, or what had happened during the day.

She preferred cold showers during the morning.

And scolding hot ones after a mission.

Neither of which were the case now.

So he settled on a decently warm temperature for now, nothing too hot, or too cold- figuring it might better benefit her sensitive stomach.

Kenshi could hear her moving around again in the next room, and heard her briefly leave for a moment, only to return a minute or so later. Her footsteps were quiet and almost mute, implying that she had removed her shoes and was barefoot for the time being. He noted that there was no jangling of her dog tags either, which were usually the last things that she moved.

(If she removed them at all).

"Join me."

It wasn't so much of a question, or a request, but... just something a little short of a demand in a sense.

She was tired, stiff, and in some mild pain.

Wouldn't admit that she didn't want to be alone right now either.

She didn't have to though.

"Sure."

Stepping out into her bedroom, Kenshi carefully removed his boots, heavy belt and equally heavy overcoat- and set them aside where he normally did, keeping them out of the way. His armor came next, and came off in sheets as he pulled them from his forearms and set them on the low-sitting dresser nearby; the same one he had ran into the first three times she had brought him home. His chest plate came next and it rested against the wall instead.

"Half of this is unnecessary," Sonya chided, as she stepped in to help him out of the rest of his uniform. Careful fingers knew exactly how to remove the red bands around his arms, as she looped them around her fingers to keep them together, before she set the red piles on the dresser for later retrieval.

She never was a fan of his uniform.

It was suitable in battle; it kept him protected on every side, covering his blindspots, while still allowing for maximum flexibility.

But when it came to dismantling it... It was neither fast, nor easy.

"Says the woman who had her stomach hanging out," Kenshi reminded, as he pulled his shirt off and set it aside on the dresser as well.

Sonya clicked her tongue and popped her finger against a noticeable scar on his abdomen- and he laughed that she had called him out on his hypocrisy. Nearly thirty years old, and the scar was still rough to the touch; a result of stitches made of fishing wire and a bent fishing hook. Not necessarily medically accepted, but certainly convenient given the situation.

It had certainly hurt like hell though.

Removing the rest of his uniform, Kenshi could feel the way her eyes settled on him before he gently pushed her back into the bathroom. His fingers brushed down against her back for a moment, lingering for a few seconds above the subtle dip of her hips, before he pulled away. He felt her hand brush against him, the backs of her fingers curled against his battered stomach; a subtle hint in return.

He sank himself into the lukewarm water first, and offered his hands in support as she followed after. It took her some time to eventually settle herself between his legs, before she leaned back against his chest. This wasn't a common thing between them, but... it had always been an enjoyable one. Something like a rough mission, or a near-death experience, or something similar to her current case, usually brought them here. And they would usually stay here for an hour or so, just enjoying the quiet company and comfort there was to be had.

Sonya gave out another heavy sigh and let herself sink a little further into the water, resting her head back against his shoulder.

He let the situation settle between them, letting the weight and presence of her feel familiar against him once more. It was deathly quiet all over again; there wasn't any kind of background noises, or anything of the such to fill in the silence. A little odd, a little unusual, but he enjoyed the stillness. It allowed him to focus solely on her rather than be distracted by something else.

Fingers moved to gently brush through her soft hair, before he carefully pulled it away from her face, allowing him to trail his fingertips down against her cheek.

He lingered softly, before he guided his fingers downward and brushed them against her exposed neck- feeling the subtle ridges of the trademark scar that cut across her throat. Fingers traced the depths of her collarbones, and felt the slight lift of her chest with every steady breath, finding solace in the slow and easy consistency of each one. He brushed fingertips down and light between her breasts, following the gradual curve of her ribs, only to stop short of her abdomen.

She was quiet against him.

Kenshi was almost certain that Sonya had fallen asleep against his chest- no doubt lulled by the quiet around them.

Fingers continued downward, gentle and with grace against the still raw scar tissue that knotted underneath his touch. He could feel where the first thrust of the knife had gone in, cutting at a slight upward angle, and then ripping downward as it came out. An uppercut sort of strike- a classic trademark of Kano's. The second thrust hit close to the same spot; it was angled more dramatically, and it ripped the skin between the two puncture wounds, essentially combining them. The third stab hit slightly off to the right, but it was still close enough to rip her abdomen open at a horizontal degree.

Messy, and painful... but the avoidance of a direct hit helped her stomach wall remain mostly intact for as long as it did. It gave her those few minutes she needed to escape from the building, and into his arms.

But fingers also found the map work of other scars, of other similar scenarios- some failed, some successful in repeating the same strike again and again. Successes and failures all laid together on the bed of her stomach, overlapping and sheathing one another. Thick knots of scar tissue formed like a minefield underneath his fingertips, once more reminding him that this was not the first, nor would it possibly be the last scar that she would obtain from a carving knife.

... It was an uncomfortable thought- even he couldn't deny that much.

Kenshi sighed and tucked his head against hers, feeling the tangle of her hair against his cheek and forehead.

"I think I like your scars better," Sonya spoke, proving her consciousness, as she moved one hand to reach behind her. Her fingers traced the curve of his jaw, before they moved to the healing scar on his cheek once more- tracing it out with several slow strokes.

"Only because they're not so painful to you," he replied, garnering a soft chuckle from her.

"I wouldn't say that," she whispered, as fingers dropped to brush the backs of her knuckles against his right shoulder. She touched over the wide scar that, still to this day, hindered his movement to some degree, and occasionally ached out of scar tissue and age.

...

On a previous Black Dragon raid almost a decade before, she had haphazardly tossed her grenades behind her in order to kill the clan members chasing her- not realizing that one of the grenades ended up falling through a hole in the floor. And not realizing that he had been on the floor underneath her, just a few mere feet from where the grenade had landed and subsequently went off.

The explosion ended up throwing him through a wall, and slamming him into the exposed, concrete foundation.

It also ended up, for the most part, blowing his right arm off.

Even now Kenshi could still remember the feeling of trying to push himself to his feet, head and body ringing from the explosion, and not immediately realizing that his right arm had failed to come with him. He could still remember the faint sound of pulled tendons and the rather sickening crunch of his arm as it slid out of the socket of his shoulder; the popping of his collarbone as it splintered apart underneath his skin.

Strings of muscle and tendons were basically the only things _barely_ keeping his arm connected to his body.

He had used his telekinetic abilities for a wide range of things throughout his life, but having to slide his own arm back into his shoulder and hold it there had definitely been a new experience.

It really wasn't until the raid was over with did he find out what had actually happened.

And Sonya had been beyond feeling guilty when she realized that he had been injured by her own grenade. The entire ride to the closest base was spent passing in and out of consciousness in her lap as she apologized over and over again.

He was lucky though, and things continued on without issue; he regained a majority of feeling and movement back in his arm, and was back to mostly normal by the end of that year. Even now, his arm felt a little slow in reacting at times, but it was hardly worth being overlyconscious about it. A little pain in his shoulder from time to time was worth dealing with when the alternative could've been worse.

But it was easy to remember that when the surgeries were long over, and the waiting game had started, she had been the first hand he touched and recognized. Freshly reconstructed nerves were able to pick up on the scars that carved deep across her palm. Barely functioning fingers, numb and a little cold to the touch, insisted on tangling with her own, getting caught up in the desperate hold of her grip.

... Sonya had stayed with him then, just as he was doing for her now.

A favor returned.

Kenshi moved to wrap his arms around her ribs, holding her back against him in a loose hold as he brushed his lips against her temple- feeling the way Sonya turned her head back towards him with the gesture. He felt her hands briefly curl against his arm, climbing up against his bicep as her body turned slightly into him now, as she tucked her head against his neck.

The subtle pool of her warm breath against his collarbones felt soothing as she trailed fingers against his skin- running them gently up and down his arm.

For the first time that day, he felt her feel calm.

...

Kenshi didn't know how long they stayed like that before he felt her push away- only for her to turn around and lie against him, chest-to-chest. He felt her warm breath back against his neck, felt her raw scar tissue brush against his own, aged down by decades worth of passing time. But it was worth knowing that one day those fresh scars of hers would be dulled down by time as well; that they would soon be smooth again- faded out and forgotten.

Hands moved to brush against her back, before he felt her arms loosely wrap around him as she fitted herself to him, and fell still once more. The additional, more prominent, weight of her against his chest caused their tangled bodies to slide a little further into the water; which forced him to have to bend his legs in order to accommodate to the size of the tub.

Fingers tangled lightly in her hair, realizing now that she had loosely undid her braid- allowing the long strands to sheet themselves across her back.

"Hope you weren't planning on leaving tonight," Sonya muttered, fingertips tracing loose circles underneath his collarbone. "I'm probably going to be here awhile."

"Well you drove me here, so I'm kind of stuck as it is," Kenshi replied.

She chuckled lightly in response as her hand slipped down to press against his chest now.

"I'm always fucking you over, aren't I?"

* * *

 

Kenshi woke to the subtle press of heat against the back of his shoulder, to fingertips gently brushing against his ribs.

A slow breath escaped him as he felt her kiss him softly a second time- recognizing the gesture now- before she buried herself between his shoulder-blades. He could feel the heat of her body against his own, and felt the slow, subtle breaths that escaped against his skin- feeling the press of her forehead against the back of his neck now.

Sonya wasn't much of a cuddler.

She didn't even really like sleeping close to someone during the night... but the early mornings seemed to call to her. It was a rare expression of touch that graced her softly-rough hands against him, and allowed him to pick up every little curl of her fingers against his ribs. She was all too well-known for being strict, and ruthless herself, but in these kinds of moments, it was easy to get caught up in a different kind of persona; a heavily shielded, but fitting one.

"I should take you home more often," he whispered, lying still as she made herself content against him.

"I love you."

Three words that were spoken light from her lips, but heavy from her chest.

An early morning weight still lingered chapped and exhausted on her tongue, but the words sounded smooth and wishful.

Kenshi slowly reached behind him, brushing his fingers against her side- feeling the way she drew into the touch and kissed him once more. Soft, warm embraces that caused his skin to almost shiver underneath each one. Turning slightly onto his back, he managed to carefully slip his arm underneath her first, before he settled and rolled her into his chest. His lips brushed against her forehead, and he could feel the way her heartbeat picked up slightly in response. He felt the weight of her as she leaned into him, one arm moving to drape over his body.

He briefly wondered if she had forgotten that he had stayed the night in the first place, or if she had just been relieved to see that he had.

"I love you too," he replied, feeling her palm brush against his jaw now, before she pulled him down to her- touching her lips against his own. Quiet and subtle. He tightened his arm around her, and turned onto his side now- pulling her in closer to him and anchoring her there. He remained mindful of her stomach, although she hardly seemed to have a problem with pushing it against his own. "How're you feeling?"

_Tired._

_Irritated._

Not so much pain, but simply stiff from the early morning hour.

"Tired," Sonya answered, before she tucked her head underneath his chin, and seemed to settle once more. "Getting over it though, so at least there's that."

A spot of good news nonetheless then.

His fingers moved to brush through her hair once more, pulling it away from her face, before he kissed at her forehead; her skin was warm against his lips again. He was beginning to think that she was just hot-natured to begin with.

"Could be worse, I guess."

He chuckled lightly, before he pulled away just enough to brush his lips against the bridge of her nose- using one hand to tilt her head up as he touched at her lips once more, lingering for a few, long seconds.

"Could be dead," he reminded.

And it was enough to earn a slight jab to the ribs once more.

"You wish."

Kenshi felt the words against his lips before she kissed him once- and then subtly pushed him back in tease. He reached one arm over her and tangled his fingers in the soft sheets, before he used his body to roll her onto her back- feeling the way she moved all too easily with him. He caught himself on his forearms, careful not to let his bodyweight settle on her, before he moved his lips into the curve of her neck.

She took a deep breath at the touch, and moved her hands to his shoulders as he lingered against her collarbones now.

He touched at the flat of her sternum with slow, lingering kisses that trailed down between her breasts- following the trail his fingers had path out the night before. He listened and focused all of his attention on her, feeling the way she breathed underneath him. Hands brushed and curled against her ribs as hesitation took hold, before he moved his lips against her scars. Subtle, and soft, fleeting brushes, just enough to feel the warmth of the knotted tissue underneath him, before he moved to the pulled skin around them.

He touched at the old, and faded scars a little more firmly, feeling the smooth rolls of knots under his tongue.

Her fingers curled lightly in his hair as she rolled her body against him with her next breath- pressing just as firmly back against his touch.

Hands eased her back down though.

"You fucking tease."

He spared her with a quiet laugh as fingers moved down to rub at the puncture scar between two of her lower ribs. It was smooth underneath his fingertips, and the skin rolled slightly as he rubbed circles over it.

"Do you want me to stop?" he questioned.

"No."

Kenshi felt her go at ease once more underneath him as he slowly moved back to her raw scars- mimicking the same brushing technique from before. He took in the rigidness of them on his tongue, and felt the subtle shiver that came from it. Her fingers continued to play in his hair, before her free hand moved to brush against the thick scar of his shoulder once again; fingers rubbing small circles over the smooth tissue just the same.

"So I heard you told Jax that you were in love with me."

He ran his fingers along the thin scar of her right side, feeling it barely register underneath his fingertips. "I might've said something like that," Kenshi replied- although he knew well that those had been his exact words.

"He seemed surprised," Sonya continued, turning just ever so slightly to guide his lips to the scar that ran horizontal across her stomach. And he followed her guidance without hesitation, pressing gently against the former wound. " _Vera_ , on the other hand, wasn't."

He caught a brief laugh in his throat, and let it partly spill heat against her scars.

"She was actually surprised that Jax _didn't_ know," she spoke. "She said that what were were, or rather _are_ , was... clearly obvious."

"I guess we didn't really try then," he whispered.

"We're the worst kept secret."


End file.
